Insanity is Imminent
by Flowing Tears
Summary: Monsters aren't born. They are created. Final Fantasy VI


Title: Insanity is Imminent

Summary: Monsters aren't born. They are created. Final Fantasy VI

Genre: Angst

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy characters, esper, environments etc, etc. Any OC, esper or location not recognisable is mine.

Rating and Warning: T for Angst. Drug abuse (I don't know what else to call that esper crap) Scary and disturbing things. Dark. OCs where needed or wanted, beware of them.

…- Insanity is Imminent -…

Kefka is almost seventeen years old when they strap him to the table, getting him ready to be infused with a magical essence drained from an esper. He is going to be the first. He is reluctant to do this, fearing for his life. But he has to. He volunteered for it.

Under a lot of pressure of course.

But he is here out of his own free will.

Almost…

"Don't bite your lip." Cid corrects him, something he has been doing for as long as they know each other. Kefka releases his lower lip from between his teeth, the flesh burning and throbbing softly. He really has been chewing too much on it lately but he subconsciously starts again when a doctor who's name he didn't catch straps his left wrist to the table. Cid is working on his right side, securing his body with leather straps, making sure they are secure but do not hurt him.

Safety measures.

The teen shudders. "Are you cold?" Cid genuinely asks, brows knitting together in worry. He sighs when the young man shakes his head no.

Cid double checks the leather straps around the teen's ankles, wrists and chest one more time before moving towards a table to the far right, retrieving a single vial of liquid. The essence of the esper is green and thin like water. When he shakes the container the liquid sloshes around, a darker shade of green swirling through the light liquid.

It takes a few moments to secure the container to the IV stationed to Kefka's left. Once it is perfectly in place the doctor grabs a thick needle from a nearby tray. He raises it as if to inspect it once before placing it back once more, grabbing a little cloth and some alcohol. The young man watches carefully as Cid cleans his arm, leaving his skin to tingle a little when he is finished. Once more Kefka looks away when the elder man raises the thick needle, grabbing his arm with a bit of force and quickly, and quite painfully actually, inserting the needle into the thickest vein. Right now the teen can taste blood dripping out of his lip on the inside of his mouth but he continues to chew even as Cid attaches the long tube of the IV to the other end of the needle.

With a little squeaky sound Cid turns at a small wheel, allowing the green fluid to start dripping down the tube towards the teen's arm. The older man releases a breath he was unsure of holding in when the liquid enters the youngster's body. After a few more seconds he reluctantly steps back, letting the time pass slowly.

The liquid is cold. Very cold as it pours through his veins. He shudders once more, his arm beginning to throb painfully when the thickness makes his veins widen. He flexes his hand, feeling some of the tension release if ever so slightly so he continues doing just that, flexing his hand into a fist before spreading his fingers. The young man takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, instead choosing to stare at the machine attached to the ceiling close by and the vial of green liquid slowly emptying as its substances slowly drip into his veins.

"We called the esper Soraki." Cid softly speaks up, trying to sooth the young man's nerves but he doesn't know how. It's best he leaves some distance between them should something unsuspected and dramatic happen. Like Kefka spontaneously combusting into flames. It has happened to one of the rats before, but that was with Ifrit, a different esper. "We came across Soraki when we followed a legend." Talk, that is what he'll do. Talk to Kefka, draw his attention away from the green substance oozing into his system.

"Isn't that the sound of trees being cut down?" The young man finally tears his eyes away from the tubes, looking over where the older man feels somewhat relived to have him speaking. "When later there are none cut down." He smiles softly, that esper had been a handful.

Not in the way Ifrit had been troublesome.

Kefka remembers, had been devastated and amazed at the same time when the mighty lord of fire had set many a soldier on fire. The young man can still hear their screams of agony. He can still picture them aflame, hands clawing at their faces or other patches of skin, tearing away the scorched flesh and mutilating themselves before sinking to their knees or falling still, screams dying out as the flames grew softer. When fire isn't fed it dies out. Like those soldiers. Kefka is very thankful he is one of the few who have survived.

The youngster has trouble wiping the horrifying sight from his mind's eye, shaking his head to try and get rid of it. Twenty or so soldiers found their deaths that way.

Of course, two espers was no where near enough for the Emperor to build his great and mighty army of magic wielding knights. Kefka found the idea of an army still farfetched, seeing as he is the first being infused, and although he isn't dead yet he doesn't feel very different either. He just hopes he doesn't get too sick of this stuff, the 'essence' of the esper.

There was talk about a gate. An Esper gate sealed away deep within the great mountains to the East. Kefka isn't sure if he had understood right, but according to the rumours there were even more espers hidden there.

He did grow up with the tales of some espers still living in this world. Of course, Ifrit and Soraki had been proof of that. Ifrit had indeed ruled a volcano which had been active until he was captured, the lord of hellfire being the reason why is still erupted on a desolated island every now and then. Soraki had lived in a forest found close to the kingdom of Doma. His had been an easy capture, not with horrible fatalities like Ifrit had caused.

"How are you feeling?" The blond youngster is startled for a second, looking over to see Cid fumbling with his hands. "Fine." He dryly replies, smacking his lips together. His mouth is indeed going a little dry though he doesn't see any danger coming. He hears the other man rummage about, noticing the other people had left. Dismissing it Kefka focuses on the liquid again, noticing a dark fluid floating in the midst of liquefied esper. It twirls around like a cocktail, seeming to be something on its own entirely as it twirls. Slowly a thin strand of the dark green liquid twists downwards, a tail disappearing into the tube as it is sucked downwards. He dismisses this too, not wanting to think too much about anything.

The vial is half empty now, and the effects are beginning to stir. The young man is starting to grow cold. Strange, because there is a thin layer of sweat covering his skin. A bead drips from his forehead, slowly downward, and his cotton shirt is growing stale. "Kefka?" The doctor is at his side in an instant, wiping the teen's forehead with a cloth. "How are you feeling?" Cid is standing right next to him, but he sounds as if he is speaking from the other side of the large lab. With a thump the younger man's head lolls backwards, hitting the steel table. Cid is talking to him, but the words are lost to him. Just a faint and far away murmur, constantly trying to get his attention.

With a frustrated sigh the doctor wipes the teen's head again, running the cloth down his neck to wipe the sweat away. The young man is growing very cold, but is also sweating as if he is having a fever. The faint shivering running along his body is slowly growing stronger, but Cid is unsure if he should give the teen a blanket or not.

The vial is empty when he removes the needle from the young man's arm, quickly bandaging it up when blood wells up from the puncture wound.

Kefka loses consciousness along the way.

He wakes in a small cell. A small room with a bed and a toilet, nothing more. Situated close to the lab. It was to be expected. In case of complications. In case something would go horribly wrong. But other then a dry mouth and a slight headache forming when he opens his eyes, Kefka feels relatively fine. Tired and a little hungry, but fine.

With a deep sigh he kicks his blanket off and away, feeling the cool air hit the bare skin of his chest and arms. Much better, he was hot under the thick blanket. The teen rolls onto his back, just in time to see the door opening. The familiar and welcome face brings a soft grin to his lips. "How are you feeling?" Which has been asked a hundred times over by now.

In the upcoming hour he and Cid go over how he feels. Kefka has been asleep for five hours, not a long time but it feels like weeks. The doctor examines the teen, takes his temperature, blood and pulse, checks his eyes, ears, throat, everything actually. Halfway through Kefka was given a large glass of water, and by the time their conversation was over the young man felt as good as new. No abnormalities, hiccups, pains and aches.

He is released in short order.

The first time went spectacularly well.

Kefka is seventeen years old when they strap him to the table, getting him ready to be infused with a magical essence drained from an esper for the second time.

The amount will be much less then last time, but the esper was believed to be much stronger. Possessing the elements in fact. Water. A creature found in the murky waters of a swamp, lingering and swimming freely. Kefka had been informed of the esper beforehand, but couldn't bring himself to care much.

Instead of choosing powerful, special espers the doctors seem content to fill him with whatever crap they can find. The young man is greatly displeased by this, but has chosen to keep his complaints to himself, especially with Cid as calming and exited as always.

So Kefka lies here, in silence, inwardly sulking as the vial is dripping into his blood again. Yellow, this time, with twirls of pink and green. The liquid is pretty to watch, and it gives him something to do while he waits. The good doctor is talking, always talking, trying to keep him sane and fearless throughout his ordeal. And the blond male answers every question diligently, if just so he won't upset the elder man.

It's not until Cid is standing next to him, frown on his face, when Kefka wonders. "What?" He queries, genuinely confused.

"I asked you to name a flying monster."

"Yeah so?"

"A children's book… is not a flying creature…" The doctor fixes him with a cantankerous stare, crossing his arms. The stare doesn't last long, nor does his annoyed visage when the younger man's eyes trail off to the side, falling on nothing in particular. A little bothered now Cid checks the essence again, noting the vial empty. One of his assistants has been on stand by, already removing the needle from their patient's arm. "He's burning up." She informs him matter of factly.

"Yes I see…" He murmurs, placing a cool hand on the feverous forehead. Blue, foggy eyes snap up towards him, bloodshot and tired. "Let's get you up hm?" He offers, his deft hands quickly making work of the clasps around the teen's heaving chest. The straps are released in short order and not a moment later Kefka rolls over, spilling his stomach's contents over the edge of the table and the floor. Fluid had been building up, and now that has found a way out.

Cid pulls him backwards when he is done spitting, gently patting his back. "Nauseous I take it?" His voice is soft and filled with concern, and his eyes a little darker and a little more tired as he pulls the shivering young man against him. Feeling his throat constrict Kefka can only nod slowly, feeling himself fading.

Black lines the edges of his vision, and his body begins to feel heavy. He doesn't register being carried off to his cell to rest, nor does he fully register waking up three days later.

The second time didn't go as well as the first, but results are booked.

Kefka is still seventeen years old when they strap him to the table, getting him ready to be infused with a magical essence drained from an esper for the third time in his short and surprisingly unspectacular career as a magitek knight.

So far, half of the fluid had drained into his bloodstream, and so far nothing has happened.

Exhausted from a whole day of training Kefka tries to relax, hoping to get some sleep lest Cid allow it. The essence of this esper is thick and stubborn, slowly dripping into him, has been for over an hour now. So far no complications, other then Kefka growing groggier by the passing second.

The young man stares off towards the high ceiling, tracing the jagged patterns with his eyes lazily. Slowly, ever so slowly he becomes comfortable, feeling sleep slowly claiming him.

Then a voice resonates, soft and far away. Kefka is pulled out of his sleepy state and needs to concentrate hard in order to hear it. Thank heavens it calls out a second time, and this time, he can hear it a little closer, a little louder, a little lost. _I am Amanojaku._ The young man's eyes go wide in shock. He ignores the dull, slow throb that is beginning in his arm in favour of waiting, in favour of listening. Perplexed, both frightful and curious he lies there, listening, waiting, wanting the voice to say something else as well as whishing it was just a figment of his imagination.

_I am Amanojaku._

Clearly, he did not imagine that. The vial is slowly draining out, half empty. Half full.

_I am Amanojaku. I am Amanojaku._ _I am Amanojaku._ The mantra begins to fade, further and further away, as if Kefka is subconsciously pushing it away. The teen inhales deeply, feeling pain rise in his lungs. They begin to hurt, burn, throb in the same slow pace as his arm. For a moment in time Kefka closes his eyes, relaxing, waiting. He concentrates on the steady beat forming in his chest, in sync with the throb in his arm, and in sync with his head. The pound is slow and doesn't hurt, but feels almost satisfying. A rise in his body temperature has him sweating and Cid monitoring him closer then ever, but he ignores the doctor in favour of listening again.

The silence only stretches for so long before the source, the esper he believes, breaks through again. Instead of forcing the presence out of his mind and body Kefka tries to relax as best as he can.

Welcoming the esper into his body. Welcoming it with open arms. In order to become the so desired magic knight he will need the esper's powers. And in order to do that he will need to welcome it. There is fog in his head, very soft, but the esper is lost. He can tell the esper is lost and blind and seeking guidance. _I am Amanojaku._ It calls out, distant again, far, far away, introducing itself to its new host. Kefka lets the silence linger for only a moment before making up his mind.

He calls out. Silence follows, but the presence inside of his mind, in the back of his head moves. It is not frightful, it isn't angry. Glee, fills Kefka's heart, coming from the esper. The magical entity is pleased. Hilarity fills the young man, drips over his skin like a ghost sensation. It tickles, calls goosebumps to rise. Feeling a little more courageous the young man calls out again.

Without a doubt…

…up until this day…

…the biggest mistake of his life.

Clear as crystal, bright as the sun, as if standing in front of him and speaking loud and directly at him, the esper speaks again. No longer calling out, but in a smooth and genuine and _poisonous_ tone of voice.

_I am Amanojaku. I instigate wickedness. _

Someone grabs his head from behind, wraps long, cold claws around his head. Kefka yelps and jolts, pulling his arms but he remains strapped to the table. The hands, with long fingers and deep red claws curl upwards, the pinkies ghosting over his lips, the middle fingers tracing his nose and the index fingers tilting away from his skin, for they would poke his eyes if they hadn't. The young man begins to struggle, begins to fight. He tries to twist his head but the hands around his face are strong, they keep him even more trapped then he already is.

Cid is besides him, is staring directly at him. The older man is saying something, is screaming, but the words bounce off the teen like water drops bounce from the steel shield of a warrior. Kefka begins to trash when another set of hands crawl over the skin of his neck, coming from behind him even though that is impossible because he is lying on a table. _I seek power. We seek power. I instigate wickedness. I am Amanojaku. _Kefka is nearing hysterics when more pale hands with red claws begin to feel their way up his body, long fingers curling over his skin.

He can feel Cid's presence, somewhere far away moving frantically around his table. More presences follow, overruled by the esper but they are there, surrounding him, doing… something while the hands grab at every limb and hold him down. Kefka is trashing now, as hard as he can against his binds. More hands, warm hands hold him down. The teen begins to scream, as loud as he can. Cries that last only a few seconds when the hands around his throat tighten their grip and cut his air, end his screech abruptly. He begins to choke, and it startles the people around him.

_I will need more._

Then it finally stops. The cold, unforgiving hands leave his body. The long, sleek hands curled around his face are replaced by the hot and sweaty palms of the oldest doctor around. Cid is calling out orders, is calling out to him but the young man can't hear him.

_I will need so much more._ Then a harsh slap to his cheek, and everything pops back into place.

"Will you hear me?" Blue eyes snap towards the panting doctor, and Cid relaxes completely. The presences… the other doctors relax slightly as well, seeing as the episode is finally over. One of them is patching Kefka's infused arm up, quickly and expertly bandaging it.

"I will need more." The young man snaps his mouth shut with an audible click. Confusion latches onto his very soul, confusion and fear. That wasn't him. He doesn't need more. He doesn't _want_ more. The older man glares at him, for the first time angry. "There will be no infusions for a while…" He spits, scolding the teen. He sounds exhausted, breath heavy and frantic. "Get him in the cell. Cuff him…" The old man brushes a hand over the teen's wet face, worry and fear dancing in his intelligent eyes. "You need to rest now." With that, the patient is lifted from the table by two strong doctors and carried away.

Kefka's head drops backwards, too heavy to hold up. There is a haze in his mind, a residue from his infusion. Like a soft blanket of fog, barely there but if he squints his eyes, if he focuses hard enough he sees it. Can feel its soft droplets cascading on his warm skin. He is left with a desire to simply lie down and sleep, to rest and make everything go away like a nightmare.

He can't feel the esper anymore, but that doesn't mean that it isn't there. It is there. Right beneath the surface, right beneath his skin.

He will wake again a week later, screaming.

The third time wasn't supposed to end badly.

_I am Amanojaku. I instigate wickedness. _

_I am Amanojaku. I am the beginning._

-Einde hoofdstuk

OC espers: I chose OC espers to infuse Kefka with because I am convinced that there are many more espers we didn't come across in the game. When Kefka dumps Ifrit and Shiva in that hole in the magitek facility, we see a big load of corpses and whatnots, of which I believe espers that had been so far drained from their magic that they could not form the sexy little crystals we use to learn magic later on. Let me know how you feel about this. And stay sexy!


End file.
